


ninety nine percent

by izayas



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst with a Happy Ending, Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru, childhood friends to eventual lovers is my favorite., implied sex, multiple confessions and drunken hook up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 07:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izayas/pseuds/izayas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>more than anything, oikawa tooru wants to be with iwaizumi hajime, but he's only ninety nine percent of the way there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ninety nine percent

**Author's Note:**

> hello, i would like to join the iwaoi fandom and this is my application. thank you for your consideration.
> 
> a gift for monstrux on tumblr, who dragged me into the deepest pits of hell :)

**4:11 p.m., october 4**

Iwaizumi didn't know why he was getting coffee with Oikawa. One moment he was on the way home, and the next he was face-to-face with Oikawa, who was standing outside of a convenience store with a hoard of girls around him. Natural reflexes kicking in, Iwaizumi pushed his way through and hit him.

_"Shittykawa! Stop flirtin'!"_

_"Ahh, that hurts, Iwa-chan… are you jealous?"_

_"Shut up!"_

And then they were sitting down at a café and Oikawa was flirting again.

"The usual!"

While watching a bit of flirtatious banter between Oikawa and the waitress, Iwaizumi scoffed and waited with his arms crossed, leaning back in the booth. Oikawa Tooru had become something of a celebrity, the combination of his good looks, charming personality, and volleyball prowess earning him quite the reputation. Iwaizumi didn't care much about how famous Oikawa became. To him, Oikawa was Oikawa. The same Oikawa he grew up with, the same Oikawa he played with in high school, the same Oikawa he continued to yell at despite attending different colleges.

Stupid Oikawa.

Shittykawa.

"Oikawa."

"Right, right… sorry, Mayu-chan, Iwa-chan's getting impatient. Later, okay?"

She blushed at Oikawa's wink before hurrying off, and Iwaizumi stared at Oikawa. He watched Oikawa's gaze linger on her for a moment before returning his attention to Iwaizumi, giving an innocent enough seeming smile across the table. "You never stop, do you?"

Oikawa grinned, head tilted.

"Jealous, Iwa-chan?"

"Not a chance."

Giving a good natured laugh, Oikawa leaned back when their orders arrived—service was always impeccably fast when he was here with Oikawa—and Iwaizumi gave a curt nod along with his 'thank you.' The waitress smiled and asked if they needed anything else, before Oikawa sent her off with another wink that had her giggling.

Iwaizumi scowled as she left again, knowing she'd most probably stop by again under the pretense of checking up on them and their drinks.

"That."

Oikawa turned back to him, blinked with an expression that could mirror a child's with its innocence. Had it been anyone but Iwaizumi, the expression would have done a fine job of deceiving. But this was Oikawa, and he was Iwaizumi. He knew Oikawa almost better than Oikawa knew himself.

"Huh?"

"Your flirting," Iwaizumi said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table, "is excessive. Cut back on it."

"Iwa-chan, you're only finding a problem with this _now_?" Oikawa challenged, knowing fully well his sarcasm would only serve to infuriate the other more as he echoed Iwaizumi's movements. A corner of his lips twitched into a smirk; his eyes darkened as he held Iwaizumi's gaze, but that lasted only a second before he smiled again, straightening a bit. "Are you jealous?"

Iwaizumi scowled.

"And why would I be?"

"Well… maybe Iwa-chan has feelings for me!"

Iwaizumi scoffed, rolled his eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Would that really be that out of the ordinary?" Oikawa chirped.

"Yeah."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because you're you."

Oikawa's lips pursed into a frown; it was a pout that Iwaizumi had become familiar with over the course of their friendship. He knew when it was real (never) and when it was fake (always). It was something that was easily dismissed and Iwaizumi had grown used to it, the way he'd dealt with most of Oikawa's childish antics.

Giving a sigh, Iwaizumi leaned forward to pick up his cappuccino and leaned take a sip. But just as his eyes fell to look at the latte art, he heard something that made his heart stop:

"I'm in love with you, Iwa-chan."

And then he froze, his lip just barely meeting the ceramic rim.

Suddenly Iwaizumi was acutely aware of the ticking of a clock somewhere in the café, of dull chatter and murmurs in the background, of the dark grey of Oikawa's sweater in his peripheral vision. His own eyes were focused on his drink, staring at the froth and the art drawn in it. He could feel his heart beating, knew that if he didn't move soon, he'd be at risk of an involuntary twitch that would make him spill his drink.

He didn't know how much time passed before he looked up and was met with one of Oikawa's genuinely neutral expressions.

"That's a joke, right?" he asked, voice tight. Oikawa didn't respond and at that, Iwaizumi was enraged. Slamming his drink down and hardly feeling the hot beverage splashing onto his hand, Iwaizumi stood so suddenly that the table shook. Oikawa's eyes didn't follow him; they were downcast as Iwaizumi glared at him and grabbed his coat to leave.

"Don't screw around like that."

**7:29 p.m., october 15**

Oikawa Tooru was twenty-four years old, official setter of the men's national volleyball team, and in love with Iwaizumi Hajime since they were eighteen years old.

They'd been childhood friends and though Oikawa wasn't sure exactly _when_ he'd crossed the line, he just knew that by the time he was sixteen, he'd recognized and accepted that he was entirely, head-over-heels in love with Iwaizumi. It had been a gradual realization that culminated one day after volleyball practice, when he and Iwaizumi had just been talking. At some point, Oikawa stopped; Iwaizumi didn't seem to mind, just kept carrying the conversation on as Oikawa stared blankly at him, felt _I'm in love with you_ imprinting with every beat of his heart.

Iwaizumi was someone he could depend on. Iwaizumi was someone who knew Oikawa almost better than he knew himself; Iwaizumi was someone who would keep Oikawa from crossing any lines. Iwaizumi understood his limits; Iwaizumi could push him but also protect him.

Iwaizumi motivated him, Iwaizumi understood him, Iwaizumi felt like everything to him.

Iwaizumi _was_ everything to him.

So, naturally, Oikawa kept his feelings a secret.

One reason was because he was busy; that was almost enough to keep his mind from having the time to wander and think about his childhood best friend. Oikawa had incredible focus, which was one of the reasons why he had become such a skilled setter. He'd put his mind to something and stop at nothing to achieve the goal. When he focused on something, he pushed everything out of his mind, feelings for Iwaizumi included. Another was that he didn't want to risk anything distracting either Iwaizumi or himself from their goals:

Nationals.

Getting better.

Playing their best.

He'd fallen in love with Iwaizumi's concentration and passion, with his loyalty and the fact that Iwaizumi had _always, always_ been his rock. The idea of a relationship really had been the last thing on Oikawa's mind back then; it showed in his fleeting relationships, having been dumped several times because he was too focused on volleyball. Oikawa was more than satisfied to be the ace's setter and bring out his potential because to be able to be by his side and play with him was enough.

But then they graduated and finished college. Iwaizumi had decided against playing for the national team and Oikawa had decided to go for it. They practiced together and Oikawa occasionally made surprise appearances at Iwaizumi's volleyball classes (to the excitement of the students and chagrin of the instructor.) They still played together, but it wasn't the same as before. So when Oikawa realized that his feelings were just as potent off the court as on it, he began to consider what _dating_ his best friend would be like.

With all the distractions now gone, Oikawa was left with absolutely nothing as an excuse. _I don't want to ruin our dynamic_ and _I want to stay concentrated_ were rendered useless; Iwaizumi trained with him, but Iwaizumi wasn't on the team with him. This forced Oikawa to confront the fact that he, at the core, was scared of losing Iwaizumi. That, at the root of it all, fear was what kept him from thinking about confessing. Iwaizumi had always been the one to tell Oikawa to confront his fear, but this was something Oikawa couldn't tell him.

Though he did care about the girls he dated, Oikawa was never in love with them. Not the way he was with Iwaizumi. He dated them in a half-hearted attempt to nullify his feelings, throwing himself into volleyball even more to not only be good enough for Iwaizumi, but also to distract himself from his plan not working. There had been times where even volleyball wasn't enough of a distraction, which terrified Oikawa.

But then they graduated and Iwaizumi stopped playing at the competitive level, though he would still practice all day with Oikawa if he needed. And the day he'd decided to confess was the four month anniversary of the day he began to think about it. It was still terrifying, but Oikawa decided he had to be brave and take the risk. He could either let it haunt him for the rest of his life, or get it over with.

Because Iwaizumi was someone who was everything to Oikawa, someone who Oikawa wanted everything with.

He'd confessed in a casual and nonchalant way, similar to the way he'd asked out his previous girlfriends. Oikawa never made a big show of it; he went for it in a simple and straightforward fashion, was almost always met with a shriek or giggle of happiness and having his feelings accepted. He'd hoped that by confessing the same way, it would feel more casual, not like he was turning his entire life and most important relationship a hundred eighty degrees.

Of course Iwaizumi had been the exception.

Oikawa didn't know exactly what he'd expected. He had never lingered too long on whether or not Iwaizumi felt the same way, but he knew he wanted to tell him, was willing to take the risk. In fact, he'd thought that Iwaizumi would hit him. He had been prepared for it, actually, so when he just up and left, Oikawa was left to sit at the table, his composed expression a result of past modeling experience and occasional poker tournaments.

Because that meant Iwaizumi was mad.

Because that meant Iwaizumi was upset.

Because that meant Iwaizumi was _hurt_.

Because that meant Oikawa had _hurt_ Iwaizumi and that was the last thing he'd ever wanted.

He couldn't stop thinking about how Iwaizumi had walked out. Even before that, he'd regretted his words that moment they sounded and wished he could take it back.

"Tobio-chan!"

"Why'd you text me?"

"I saved you a seat!"

Smiling brightly, Oikawa patted the stool next to him. A drink was already on the bar for Kageyama, a single glass of milk that Oikawa had to put in a special request for. Kageyama took a seat and turned to Oikawa with his natural scowl. "What do you want?"

"So I confessed to Iwa-chan," Oikawa announced casually.

Kageyama blinked. "And I care because…?"

"He thought I was joking."

Kageyama blinked again, though this time he wasn't so quick and bored with his response. Raising a hand to palm the back of his neck, he cleared his throat, obviously suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with the conversation.

"…Oh. Uh… sorry? I think?"

Oikawa's smile was brief and empty as he fixed his gaze on his reflection in his drink. He held a glass of cognac between his fingers, having taken slow, small sips and enjoyed the bitter taste spreading over his tongue. He'd never been big on drinking; if he had, he figured he'd be downing shots to forget his stupid mistake. Exhaling slowly, he bowed his head. His fingers tightened their grip for a moment before he took another sip, swallowing without his expression betraying the taste.

"…He thought I was joking," he repeated quietly.

It had stung. When he saw Iwaizumi's expression, his stomach had instantly dropped. After being friends with him for so long, Oikawa recognized all of Iwaizumi's expressions the same way Iwaizumi his, could differentiate forced ones and genuine ones. So when he saw how angry he was, he knew it was different from the anger that entailed "Shittykawa" and a hit.

Rarely was Iwaizumi genuinely _angry_ at him. He had a short temper, but there was a different from annoyed anger and enraged anger. And, to make it worse, he was also hurt. Knowing that had Oikawa's stomach seizing and turning; he couldn't bring himself to stand and stop him and so he just let him walk. Oikawa just stared at his coffee as he heard the door close, bells ringing as if nothing was wrong. It took him a full three seconds to put on a smile, shake his head when the same waitress asked if he wanted to order a pastry.

_"No milk bread today?"_

_"Nope! Sorry to disappoint!"_

Oikawa hadn't realized how long he'd stayed at the café until he was tapped on the shoulder and shyly informed that they were closing soon. For hours on end, he'd replayed that moment when Iwaizumi's expression changed. It would be what he saw before he went to bed and when he woke up; knowing he'd hurt him had Oikawa feeling numb and unable to think of anything except how to fix it. He wanted to apologize, but words weren't enough.

Iwaizumi had thought his confession was a joke and Oikawa didn't know why.

Or, rather, he didn't want to think about why.

"Maybe…"

Oikawa barely heard Kageyama's voice cut through the chatter and music in the background. Hand stilling, he looked over, watching him sip his milk with surprising concentration.

"Maybe it's for the best," he said slowly, looking over. "…Your relationships don't last very long, Oikawa-san. Don't they usually break up with you because you're too obsessed with volleyball? And isn't it always risky to date a friend? Because if you break up, that might affect your current relationship. Or Iwaizumi-san might be like all those girls and feel like you care more about volleyball than him."

Oikawa blinked and smiled. "Aw, Tobio-chan, you keep tabs on me?"

"Kind of hard not to when your face is plastered on every single magazine."

Giving a quiet chuckle, Oikawa's eyes were half lidded as he kept the glass to his lips after another sip. Kageyama was right; all his girlfriends had broken up with him because of his obsession with volleyball (it seemed he'd done well at burying his feelings towards his best friend.)

Volleyball was important to Oikawa. When he thought of volleyball, he always thought of Iwaizumi, and not necessarily always the other way around. But when it came to comparing them, that was something Oikawa had never done.

Which did he care more about?

He didn't think he wanted to know.

HIs brow knitting, Oikawa allowed a scowl as he took another sip. He swallowed and winced a bit, though it wasn't from the alcohol.

"…Yeah. Maybe it is for the best."

**7:13 a.m., october 12**

"Oikawa?"

Iwaizumi's voice was slightly crackly on his phone and Oikawa frowned, decided it was time to switch carriers. He closed his eyes and indulged in just a few more seconds of feigned sleep before answering, stretching as he did so. When his phone had gone off at first, Oikawa had desperately hit at his alarm clock, begging it for silence. But when three solid hits didn't deter the sound, he opened his eyes to see his phone buzzing its way slowly across the nightstand.

"Morning, Iwa-chan... Why did you wake me up at six on a Sunday? That's mean."

"We're getting breakfast in an hour. Meet me at the café."

And then he hung up.

Oikawa blinked, frozen with one arm extended over his head. He gave a small frown and stared at the 'call ended' flashing on his screen. He hadn't spoken to Iwaizumi in a little over a week, which was something rare but, given what had happened, he expected. He wondered what the sudden urgency was. Reveling in the comfort he'd soon have to leave, Oikawa frowned and eventually sat up, running his hand through his messy hair.

"Well… better not keep Iwa-chan waiting. He gets grumpy…"

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Oikawa stretched his arms over his head and arched his back, feeling refreshed already as he stood. Washing up and picking one of his more casual outfits, he pocketed his keys and wallet, wrapping a scarf around his neck before heading out. He was quick in the mornings, despite what many would think. Iwaizumi was faster, but Oikawa would tease that it was because he didn't have much hair to brush.

 _That_ earned him a hit.

As with every time he seemed to step out, people looked at Oikawa, some even lingering their gaze or gawking a bit. Oikawa returned with a smile and a wave, some flirtier than others. He was used to it; considering he had modeled and been in several magazines, the spotlight was second nature to him. He learned how to keep himself composed and not let slip any emotion he didn't want anyone to see.

He'd gotten so good to the point that there were times where he could've tricked himself. But somehow, Iwaizumi was never deceived. Iwaizumi would always recognize whether Oikawa was being genuine or not, yell and reprimand him or let it slide when he understood to.

Oikawa wasn't an open book, but Iwaizumi, apparently, had a key.

Turning the corner, he paused with a hand on the door to the café Iwaizumi was in. He was there already, having been taken to a booth near the back of the place, though still visible from the window. And immediately, Oikawa felt everything he'd repressed from that phone call to now well up inside him.

He hadn't talked to Iwaizumi since his confession and it had taken everything for him to answer that phone call normally and not think twice about it. But seeing him sitting there gazing at the menu reminded Oikawa of when they'd had their coffees, of Iwaizumi's expression and how he'd felt. How Iwaizumi felt. How everything had felt.

He swallowed thickly and curled his fingers around the handle. Oikawa was frozen; he couldn't will himself in and found himself staring at his shoes, while people continued to make their way behind him. It was always an out of body experience to realize that a day that could change his life would be absolutely normal for someone else.

He was in love with Iwaizumi and his confession had been taken as a joke.

It _hurt_.

Part of him wondered if he should explain. Maybe Iwaizumi hadn't understood. Actually, he had understood. That was the problem. Maybe if he explained it better, maybe if he made sure Iwaizumi knew it was genuine…

_"Maybe it's for the best."_

Kageyama's voice interrupted his stream of consciousness suddenly and Oikawa's breath hiccupped.

_Maybe it's for the best._

_That's right._

_…Maybe that was for the best._

_We're better as friends._

Swallowing, Oikawa took another moment to gather himself before opening the door and sauntering in. He kept a smile plastered to his face as he sat down, pulling off his scarf. "Good morning, Iwa-chan! Thank you for the unrequested morning call!"

"We need to talk."

Smiling faltering at Iwaizumi's deadpan voice, Oikawa paused for a moment before nodding. The grin slipped into something more distant and pained, but he looked down to hide the expression, pretending to be mesmerized by the menu instead. He had an idea of what Iwaizumi was going to talk about, but no idea what he was going to say on the topic. It was obvious that it would be about the confession, but, Oikawa thought, it would be cruel of Iwaizumi to further detail why he'd rejected him.

That would be _mean_.

"Iwa-chan sure likes Western breakfasts," he said casually. "You come to this place pretty often."

"Oikawa."

For just a few more moments, Oikawa decided to ignore him. He was still fixating his gaze on the breakfast choices, but saw in his peripheral vision that Iwaizumi had put his menu down and was staring at him, waiting patiently. Brushing off the intensity of the gaze, Oikawa took his time in deciding what to order and looked up, hoped his smile hid the nervous racing of his heart.

Of course, it wouldn't. Not from Iwaizumi.

"Yes, Iwa-chan?"

And when he looked up, Oikawa felt like time stopped.

Oikawa never quite believed in sappy romance clichés, contrary to popular belief. He didn't believe in butterflies or happily ever afters or Prince Charmings or unrealistic movie plots. He'd dated girls, of course, and while he liked them, it had never been _could-be-made-into-a-movie-head-over-heels-stomach-churning-heart-stopping-love_.

But this was Iwaizumi and so time stopped for Oikawa.

The chatter and clinking frequent for a café became distant and Oikawa couldn't focus on anything besides Iwaizumi, the only person who remained clear in his vision. Oikawa didn't like it. He couldn't help but small frown, easily disguising it into a pout when Iwaizumi asked what was wrong.

He didn't like feeling this way, having his confession taken as a joke, and then rejected as harshly as Iwaizumi had.

He didn't like anything about this at all.

"Nothing, nothing," he assured and smiled again. "What did Iwa-chan want to talk about this early?"

Giving a slow nod, clearly not entirely buying into Oikawa's words, Iwaizumi's eyes dropped to the glass of water. He hesitated and raised a hand to run through his hair, Oikawa's eyes watching sharply. "…About what you said… the other day."

Oikawa smiled.

"What did I say?"

"Are you se—I mean," Iwaizumi took a slow, deep breath, as he often had to when talking to Oikawa, "…the last time we talked. That conversation."

"Oh. That one."

"Yeah. That one."

"…What of it?"

Iwaizumi fell silent and Oikawa decided to play with the sugar packets while waiting. He had just decided to attempt the probably impossible task of building a house out of them when Iwaizumi started speaking again.

"…I… I feel the same way."

Oikawa's hand froze.

"…I'm in love with you too."

Sugar packet still held gingerly between his fingers, Oikawa could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, grateful for the cold weather that could take the blame for it. He swallowed thickly; again, the chatters were distant and all he could focus on was himself, the sugar packets, and Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi didn't say anything else and Oikawa wished he did. Because now Iwaizumi was waiting for an answer and Oikawa didn't know how to answer him.

He knew how he _wanted_ to but he didn't know if that was how he _should_.

Oikawa loved Iwaizumi in the _I-genuinely-want-you-as-my-forever_ sort of way, but they had a _most-people-never-have-this-kind-of-friendship_ to lose. And Kageyama's words, despite his probable annoyance at being called as Oikawa's official love counselor, had reminded him of what he had to lose against what he had to gain.

_I don't want to lose Iwa-chan._

_I don't want to imagine being without Iwa-chan._

_Maybe it's for the best._

Almost feeling his nail biting into his flesh through the sugar packet, Oikawa resumed his little task, smiling and looking up at him. "Oh. Iwa-chan…"

_I love you._

"…Like you said, that day, it was a joke."

_So, so, so much._

"You didn't actually take it seriously, did you?"

 _More than you could_ **_ever_ ** _fathom._

He expected Iwaizumi to yell at him.

He hoped Iwaizumi would yell at him.

Oikawa wished with every single fiber of his being that Iwaizumi would get mad at him and hit him, call him 'Shittykawa' as he always did and order almost more than he could eat, making sure that Oikawa would be the one paying. Oikawa wished that Iwaizumi would react the same way he did when Oikawa did stupid, childish things.

Because Iwaizumi didn't react like that.

And as Oikawa watched Iwaizumi's eyes widen, his expression freeze, he could feel his heart break, knowing that, again, he'd hurt Iwaizumi in one of the worst ways possible.

There was a deafeningly tense silence where two hearts were breaking, though only one knew it. Oikawa's eyes fell to resume his task, hands shaking a bit. And then when he heard a sigh, Oikawa dared to steal a glance and regretted it. Because, for the third time in a little over a week, Oikawa Tooru's heart shattered and he regretted everything.

"…Right," Iwaizumi said quietly, smiling that smile Oikawa hated seeing and looking away. "…All right. So… let's order then. My treat."

**6:42 a.m., october 17**

Iwaizumi Hajime was twenty-four years old, a personal trainer, volleyball coach, and in love with Oikawa Tooru since they were eighteen years old.

He'd decided against playing professionally after college despite having been approached by a scout. His passion for the sport certainly didn't diminish, but a part of him was done with the competitive aspect of it. He decided to take to teaching instead, though he'd train with Oikawa, who had decided to join the national team. A part of Iwaizumi did wonder what it would be like to keep playing with him, making it to an international stage, but he was also satisfied with what he'd decided to do.

Especially because he could still be with Oikawa and keep an eye on him.

Oikawa didn't seem to understand the concept of a limit; he would always push himself past them and probably would have done irreparable damage to his knee had Iwaizumi not stepped in _multiple_ times. He'd been taking care of Oikawa ever since they were kids and it was a habit he just couldn't shake. Even if he acted annoyed at all of Oikawa's antics, there was a part of him who liked it. Oikawa had become such an important and prominent aspect of his life that Iwaizumi wouldn't know what to do with the spare time that would come from not dealing with Oikawa.

Giving a sigh, Iwaizumi stopped running when met with a red light at a crosswalk. He saw people stopping by him as well, some of them holding coffees, and his expression darkened immediately. Coffee reminded him of when he'd gone with Oikawa to the café and his stomach twisted immediately, remembering Oikawa's "confession." His nails dug into his palms before abruptly catching himself, forcing relaxation.

_What's done is done._

_I tried and… I guess it was a joke after all._

_…Shittykawa._

Iwaizumi knew that Oikawa would, on occasion, be cruel just to test reactions. He'd even do so to him on occasion, though Iwaizumi had thought there was a line Oikawa wouldn't cross, a boundary that separated his antics with truly hurting someone.

Iwaizumi supposed there wasn't a boundary after all.

_Guess we're just friends. Should've expected that, though._

It had been days since he'd confessed to Oikawa, having thought that it would work out. Since then, he'd refused to linger on it; he had gone the rest of their breakfast deciding to act as if it had never happened. And, he was grateful that Oikawa did as well.

He'd immediately regretted the way he'd reacted when Oikawa had confessed. The moment Iwaizumi heard him say the words, the brief moment of happiness had been replaced by disbelief. Because for all the time Iwaizumi had been in love with him, Iwaizumi had known Oikawa for longer. And while there were things Oikawa did that he didn't necessarily approve of, he understood _why_.

Because, like him, Iwaizumi was afraid of being hurt.

Iwaizumi didn't want to fall victim to one of Oikawa's jokes; that defense mechanism, along with feeling insulted that Oikawa would _do that to him_ , had Iwaizumi standing, biting words flying before he could reconsider. But once cool wind bit his skin, he immediately felt remorse, though couldn't find it in himself to go back in and apologize. Because regret or not, a small part of him still felt that there was no way Oikawa was being serious.

Because he was Oikawa and he was Iwaizumi, and all they ever had been were best friends.

When the cross light turned, Iwaizumi went back to jogging, pace quicker than usual. The music blaring in his ears almost drowned out his thoughts; he ran faster to avoid thinking about Oikawa, about Oikawa's expression the first time, about Oikawa's expression the second time.

Iwaizumi should've trusted his gut instinct in knowing it was a joke.

The first time, when he thought it was a joke, he'd gotten angry.

And then he'd regretted it.

The second time, when he found out it really was a joke, he hadn't felt anything.

And then he felt his heart break.

Brow knitting and clicking his tongue at remembering, Iwaizumi picked up his pace, gradually increasing it until he was essentially sprinting, having turned towards the park and head into the forest to avoid the obstacles known as human beings. Narrowly ducking large branches but not entirely able to evade smaller ones and leaves scratching at his limbs and face, Iwaizumi ignored the feeling as much as he could, deciding instead to concentrate on running into his legs felt like they were going to give out and then keep pushing himself.

He'd been numb at first when Oikawa answered. He'd been confused; on some level he stupidly thought that he'd been serious. He had deluded himself into believing solely what he wanted to; what made it worse was that he _knew_ , but forgot rationality for just one brief moment and now he regretted it.

The way Oikawa had so easily and lightly turned him down stung more than anything Iwaizumi thought ever could. He had seen Oikawa act this way to other people and stupidly, _stupidly_ thought he was somehow exempt, just because they were friends. Childhood friends. Best friends.

_Stupid._

But a part of him had always expected it, having grown up with him. Oikawa had always felt out of reach to Iwaizumi. Sometimes a little bit, sometimes a lot. No matter what, Iwaizumi never felt as though he could reach out and grab him, hold him back.

Not that he wanted to. Oikawa was someone with unlimited potential and Iwaizumi didn't want to be the reason he never explored it. Iwaizumi didn't want to be the reason for Oikawa's possible future regrets; he wanted to be by his side, be his support. It was almost all right if he could never catch up with Oikawa.

Sometimes it was just enough to be able to be _with_ him, even if instantaneously and temporarily.

Eyes widening when his foot caught onto a protruding root, Iwaizumi swore as he fell. His hands came out to break the fall, twigs and stones digging into his flesh. The adrenaline of running mitigated any pain he felt; Iwaizumi lingered for only a moment on the ground before pushing himself up. He leaned against a tree to ensure nothing had been broken or twisted, brushing himself off before starting to run again, initial pace slower than the full spring he'd been going at.

Even though they were friends, even though Iwaizumi was, arguably, closer to Oikawa than anyone, he'd never felt that he and Oikawa were equal. They were close and there was an almost, but Iwaizumi just felt that he was only ninety nine percent of the way there.

Despite the only pain being the fading stinging in his palms, Iwaizumi eventually stopped, leaning against a tree. He closed his eyes and rested the back of his head against the trunk, scowling as he slid down until he was sitting on the ground, ankles crossed and knees lifted for his elbows to rest on. His fingers grabbed at his hair as he lolled forward, ignoring the hot stinging at the back of his eyes, the lump in his throat, and the excruciating hollowness in his chest.

"Damnit…"

**2:13 p.m., october 17**

Oikawa saw it when he went to bed and when he woke up: the way Iwaizumi had looked when he'd rejected him.

Days had passed and they hadn't spoken. Oikawa didn't even see Iwaizumi at the gym where he typically held practices; Oikawa wasn't going out of his way to _find_ him or anything, it just so happened he took detours and wanted to see if Iwaizumi was there.

He hadn't been doing much besides practice and conditioning on his own. Iwaizumi used to come in in his spare time to keep an eye on him and practice with Oikawa once scheduled practice was over (even if they weren't officially on the same team, it was almost a ritual for them to play together.) After their first practice, a few other players asked Oikawa if he wanted to practice with him. He smiled and shook his head, declined the offer politely and chirped that his old high school partner was coming.

_"I mean, okay… but you're sure he'll be up to par? This is the national team, you know."_

_Oikawa grinned, beaming like he was bragging about Iwaizumi._

_"No one pushes me harder than Iwa-chan does!"_

And then, on cue, a volleyball came flying out of seemingly nowhere and hit Oikawa in the back of the head.

_"Shittykawa! Get over here!"_

"Oikawa-kun, are you all right? You sure you don't want to take a break?"

"I'm fine," Oikawa insisted between pants, hands on his knees. "Just… give me a minute."

A time-out was called and as everyone else made their way out of the gym to refill their water bottles at the water fountain, Oikawa allowed himself to wince as he straightened. He gingerly tried to rest more weight on his right leg and was met with a dull ache from his knee; his brow knit and he retreated to a bench, limping just the slightest bit. Palm pressing firmly to the surface as he slowly lowered himself, he reached over for a water bottle, bringing it to his lips and tipping his head back as he drank.

With Iwaizumi around, Oikawa's injury flared up much less often than when he wasn't. Iwaizumi was able to read Oikawa better than anyone else. Even though Oikawa was a master of fake expressions and passing them off as genuine, Iwaizumi knew what he really felt and really thought. So he'd pull him aside when he knew he was pushing himself and force him to relax, keep pushing him down until he gave in. Or hit him and drag him off the court, whichever was faster and was more fitting for Iwaizumi's mood.

It happened often. Oikawa had a habit of overexerting himself; it was how he'd received the knee injury in the first place. And without Iwaizumi here, there was nothing stopping Oikawa from pushing himself past his limits, especially since his new teammates couldn't read him nearly as well as Iwaizumi. Oikawa was a hard worker, but most people never thought about the negatives of a seemingly positive trait.

They couldn't read him at all, actually. And, in a way, it was refreshing; Oikawa could successfully control everyone's perceptions on him. Iwaizumi had been the exception, always annoyingly knowing what Oikawa was hiding.

"Oikawa-kun. Is your knee all right?"

"Yes sir," Oikawa smiled easily, looking up at his coach. "Just fine."

Nodding, the man crossed his arms and regarded Oikawa a bit warily. "You've been here quite a bit. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but—"

"I'm fine," Oikawa interjected quickly, smile never once flickering. "I've just had some more time recently and wanted to work on my technique."

"Never said that was a bad thing," the coach said slowly and Oikawa felt his heart drop when he watched his eyes flick to the knee his supporter was on. "…I've been told about your knee injury, however, and I am worried about that. Don't push your body past its limit."

"Of course I won't."

"All right then. Back to practice."

Using a towel to wipe at the sweat gathering on his forehead, Oikawa took a deep breath and stood up, pushed away the vague pain in his knee. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle; he'd gone through worse and clearly survived it. He joined the rest of the team as soon as he heard that serving drills were up next, followed by laps. He instantly felt himself relaxing, smiling even as he and the team headed to one side of the net.

Most of the coach's next words were a blur to him; he caught the vital information, relied on the waving of his arms to fill in the gaps. He shifted a bit to favor his left leg and pass it off as just a way of standing; Oikawa's palms were already tingling in anticipation of the satisfying pain that came with a solid serve. His palms clenched as the first serve resounded throughout the gym; he watched the ball hit the floor on the other side of the gym.

In passing drills, Oikawa more often than not found himself thinking about Iwaizumi. After all, they'd played together for so long, both on and off the court. It was hard for him to set the ball for someone and not compare it to Iwaizumi.

But serving was different.

Serving was by himself. His serve was something that he'd worked hard to achieve and continue to try to improve it; it was a result of his hard work, of hours of practice and study. It was him pushing his body to the limit and then trying to raise the standard. It was one of the few things that Oikawa could do without his mind wandering back to Iwaizumi.

(Most of the time.)

"Oikawa, you're up!"

Taking a ball from the cart, Oikawa spun it in his hands a few times, bounced it against the ground. He took a breath to calm himself and ignored the slight twinge as he took his first step, tossing the ball into the air. As soon as it left his fingers, Oikawa's eyes followed, steps quickening until he jumped, pushing off on his right foot, arm pulling back in preparation to connect his palm to leather.

A sudden twinge of pain that even Oikawa couldn't keep from showing in his expression broke his concentration; that one moment was all that was needed for his serve to be ruined. His fingers barely brushed against the ball in time and as he landed, a hand immediately went to his knee and he hissed quietly. But as soon as he heard 'what's the matter?' he was smiling, straightening as if nothing was wrong.

"Got distracted, sorry!"

The coach frowned but gave a slow nod.

"Again."

Nodding, Oikawa returned to the cart. In the moment his back was to both his team and the coach, he frowned. Lifting the heel of his right foot, he experimentally shifted a bit of weight on it and almost swore at the sudden pain. His grip on the ball tightened as he straightened and pushed it out of his mind, turning and exhaling.

_I can do this._

Focusing on his target, Oikawa took another moment before he took his first step, pain entirely pushed out of his mind, every ounce of willpower focused on concentrating. The ball left his fingers and he made the final step with his right leg, pushing off—

-when pain _exploded_ from his knee. There was a cry of pain as Oikawa just barely managed to land on his left foot, stumbling before he collapsed on the ground. His teeth were grit, expression contorted with pain as he held his knee. He swore and tried to push himself up before he felt a hand on his arm. _"Don't move_ " was instructed, but he wasn't sure from who. All the voices were muddled and he couldn't distinguish any of the figures from each other.

Breathing shallowly from the pain, Oikawa couldn't quite make out anyone's words. All he could focus on was the excruciating discomfort shooting up and down his leg, rendering him incapable of even speaking until he heard 'does anyone have Iwaizumi's number?' after 'where's the medic?'

Forcing an eye open, Oikawa rasped ' _don't_ ' but his voice was overshadowed by the coach's yelling. Another burst of pain had Oikawa grunting, eyes closing as he pressed his forehead to the ground, giving a sardonic, forced laugh.

_Iwa-chan's going to be so mad…_

**5:33 p.m., october 17**

"You _idiot_."

"I'm fine, though!"

" _No, you're not!"_

Pouting but not pushing the topic any further, Oikawa watched as Iwaizumi wrapped his knee with bandages. The medic had assured everyone that it was just him overworking his knee again, nothing that rest wouldn't fix, making sure to stare at Oikawa as he said the words. Oikawa smiled back brightly. _"It's like déjà vu hearing you say that, Miyami-sensei."_

_"For a good reason, Oikawa-san."_

After insisting that he _would_ go home and rest (with the coach having been alerted, Oikawa had recognized he couldn't saunter back into the gym anytime soon), Oikawa had slowly stood, reaching out for a handrail to steady himself. He was relieved he hadn't seen Iwaizumi in the office; maybe no one had his number, he thought almost cheerfully, carefully standing on his left foot first. He tried to avoid any weight on his right foot for the time being, trying to figure out how best to walk if that were the case, when a strong hand grasped his arm suddenly.

Looking up, Oikawa's eyes widened and felt his heart skipping a beat to see Iwaizumi, breathless and scowling.

_"You goddamn idiot."_

Since both of them didn't have a car, Iwaizumi helped Oikawa outside and proceeded to call a cab. He recited Oikawa's address and leaned back into the seat, arms crossed and looking out the window. Oikawa didn't have to look over to know how angry he was. The ride was conducted in silence and Iwaizumi was out and helping Oikawa to do the same before he'd even lifted a foot, remaining stoic and silent.

_"Take these."_

_"I don't—"_

_"_ **_Take them_ ** _."_

The pain medication was taken with an annoyed sigh and Oikawa almost expected Iwaizumi to demand that he open his mouth and lift his tongue. He was helped (or forced) over to the couch after and Iwaizumi was on the ground, redoing Oikawa's bandages with practiced ease. Oikawa didn't say anything; he couldn't help but watch Iwaizumi's nimble fingers wrap the bandage around his knee, the sensation of them brushing against his skin electrifying.

Once he was finished, Iwaizumi moved to sit next to him. Oikawa slowly shifted to prop his leg up on the coffee table, eyes falling to admire the neat bandaging Iwaizumi had done. The television was switched on after a moment, some currently popular drama filling the previous silence. Watching with him for a few minutes, Oikawa then began to sit up, flinching when Iwaizumi sharply asked what he was doing.

"Getting water."

"Sit."

He cautiously relaxed back into the couch as Iwaizumi headed towards the kitchen. Oikawa heard the refrigerator open and close, was soon graced with a cool bottle of water. He mumbled his gratitude as he unscrewed the cap, taking a sip, feeling the cold water chilling his chest the same way Iwaizumi's movements did.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

_About time._

"I got carried away," Oikawa said easily, eyes focused on the television screen.

" _Damnit, Oikawa!_ "

Brow knitting, Oikawa slowly turned to look at him, his impassive gaze met with a furious one. Iwaizumi was gripping the remote so tightly that his knuckles were turning white and Oikawa gave a sigh, looking away. It wouldn't be truthful to say he hadn't thought of Iwaizumi's reaction if he overworked himself, but he certainly didn't do this on purpose for his attention. "…It won't happen again."

"That's what you always say!" Iwaizumi snapped. "And every time you… you've always been like this! What's the matter with you?! I know you want to get better because you feel like you aren't enough, but you have to _stop_ sometimes! Most people stop at ninety five percent but for you, ninety nine is your minimum and a hundred ten is the norm! Even if I'm not there, you have to _know_ where your limits are! What if one day you push yourself too hard? Your knee gets so bad that you can't ever play again?!"

"It won't," Oikawa said quietly but he was frowning.

"And how do you know that?!"

"…I just do." _Because Iwa-chan won't let that happen._

"I'm not always going to be there to stop you in time, so-!"

"You say all that," Oikawa cut in smoothly, voice more controlled than Iwaizumi's but anger still evident, "as you come in here with scrapes on your palms and chin and a limp in your left leg. You're going to lecture me about pushing myself when you're doing the exact same thing?"

Iwaizumi was at a loss for words for a moment and Oikawa's eyes lingered on the white gauze under his chin, giving a frown. He waved a hand to mean 'stop talking' and turned back to the show, scowl deepening.

He didn't even like this show.

Twenty more minutes of silence between them elapsed before Oikawa reached for his water bottle, making the mistake of looking over at Iwaizumi.

Oikawa saw it when he went to bed and when he woke up: the way Iwaizumi had looked when he'd rejected him.

He'd convinced himself that they were better off ( _safer_ , actually) as friends, and that pretending he didn't feel the same way was to save Iwaizumi from unavoidable pain. But when he saw his face, when Iwaizumi didn't get _angry_ , Oikawa realized that he'd hurt him more than he ever could've imagined with his rejection.

_I'm sorry._

"…Iwa-chan."

"What."

Oikawa gave a sigh and leaned back, head resting against the back of the couch. "…You're important to me."

Iwaizumi was quiet and the only sound was him shifting, adjusting the way he was sitting on the couch.

"…Yeah."

Oikawa looked over, gave a small smile and reached a hand out, fingers curled in a loose fist.

"…Practice with me again so you can keep an eye on me, Iwa-chan?"

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, regarding his fist warily. But after another second, he gave a sigh and bumped it with his own fist, giving a small, tired smile.

"…Well, someone has to do it, Shittykawa."

**9:51 p.m., october 24**

They started hanging out again.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa weren't the type of friends who needed to hang out every day; a friendship that had been strong since childhood remained that way partly because of their ability to function independently. Texts would be exchanged if they were busy, mostly Oikawa teasing and Iwaizumi yelling, but they weren't attached at the hip. They had their own lives to lead, especially with their paths beginning to diverge. Oikawa had national team practices and games, Iwaizumi had his classes and training.

But after the confession and rejection, then the confession and rejection round two, there was a different kind of silence. Iwaizumi had thought about Oikawa during that period, but wasn't able to bring himself to go visit until he received a phone call, unfamiliar number but familiar area code.

When the words 'Oikawa' and 'injury' and 'flare up' registered in his mind, Iwaizumi dropped everything and ran.

Because, for Oikawa, he'd always drop everything and run.

 _Always_.

Iwaizumi couldn't help but blame himself; would it have been different if he was there? If he'd swallowed his pride and checked up on him, would he have been able to stop him? Iwaizumi asked himself those questions all the time; he stayed over at Oikawa's to help him as he recovered, the two of them going back to how they almost were within two days.

"…A movie? We're going to watch a movie?"

"Yes, Iwa-chan," Oikawa explained patiently as he sauntered over to the DVD player and put the disc in, "sometimes people do this. It's fun, you'll see."

"Shut up."

Oikawa met Iwaizumi's glare with a smile as he walked past him, disappearing into the kitchen for a moment. His injury had healed, though both Iwaizumi and the coach still kept a careful eye on him, wanting to make sure it wouldn't flare up again. With Iwaizumi at practices again, Oikawa was kept from pushing his limit or even getting too close to it. If he did, Iwaizumi would either yell at him or throw a ball, tell him to sit down and stood strong against his pout.

_"Iwa-chan, you're just like my mom!"_

_"I wouldn't have to be if you weren't such a goddamn idiot!"_

Draping his arms over the back of the couch, Iwaizumi only looked away from the beginning of the movie when he felt something cool press to his cheek. He took the glass and caught a whiff of the drink in it as Oikawa sat down next to him, brow knitting. "…You made a cocktail? Or is this just straight vodka?"

Oikawa smiled, clinking his glass to Iwaizumi's.

"Drink up, Iwa-chan. Let's build up that nonexistent tolerance of yours."

Oikawa knew Iwaizumi wasn't into drinking. Neither was he, though he was more likely to enjoy something now and then. But having been offered the drink and accepting it, Iwaizumi gave a sigh and Oikawa watched in surprise as he easily drank half of the glass without so much as batting an eye.

He lowered the glass and looked over.

"What?"

"…Nothing!"

Smiling, Oikawa took a sip and wished the burning sensation was enough to distract him for longer.

One hour into the movie and about half of Oikawa's liquor cabinet later, they were sitting with their thighs touching and Oikawa felt like he was swimming without actually moving.

 _Fun_.

Starting to reach an arm up for his glass, Oikawa hadn't lifted his back from the couch before deciding it was too much effort and he was more than content being this close to Iwaizumi, feeling heat radiating from him. He nearly moved to rest his head on his shoulder, stopping himself just in time. Drunk or not, the still sober part of his mind piped, that would be a bad idea.

"So," he tried instead, "how does Iwa-chan like the movie?"

"I've no idea what's goin' on."

Oikawa laughed. He hadn't been paying much to the movie either; it was impossible with Iwaizumi so close and right there, after the two of them avoiding each other for so long. His fingers itched to _accidentally_ brush against Iwaizumi's but he kept from doing so; they'd found a delicate balance of being close without being _close_ , two confessions and two rejections as constant, pressing memories.

"Well, if Iwa-chan's not watching this, then we should—"

"That was a mean joke you pulled," Oikawa heard and froze. "…Even for you."

Oikawa's mouth was still open and he closed it, licking his suddenly dry lips. His heart was racing and he couldn't bring himself to look at Iwaizumi with the sudden wave of guilt. Head bowing, his lips curved into a small smile. He swallowed painfully, fingers twitching and already knowing he'd eventually regret what he was about to do, but not caring enough about Future Oikawa.

His heart was racing desperately as he tried to swallow the apologies threatening to spill from his tongue. Tipsy Oikawa wanted to explain that he had lied because he was stupid, that when he'd confessed, he was ninety nine percent ready when he needed to be one hundred. Because Sober Oikawa was afraid and if there was the slightest bit of fear or uncertainty, it would be enough to ruin everything.

But Tipsy Oikawa was different.

Tipsy Oikawa was braver.

"…It wasn't a joke," he breathed and leaned over, one hand cupping Iwaizumi's cheek as he kissed him. Iwaizumi kissed back almost immediately, despite surprise slowing his movements a bit. Oikawa moved to sit in his lap; his knees were on either sides of his hips and he used his new position to deepen the kiss, moan into Iwaizumi's mouth when he felt the other's fingers tangling in his hair. They pulled apart only to tug off shirts; there was a moment where their gazes locked and nothing else mattered except how Oikawa was looking at Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi was looking at Oikawa, but that moment passed when Oikawa leaned down to seal their lips together again.

Their bodies begged to be closer, the movie long forgotten. Iwaizumi's hands were soon on Oikawa's hips, though briefly. They moved so that one arm could wrap around his waist, lifting him as Iwaizumi laid him down along the couch, own body over him. Oikawa's hips lifted to meet Iwaizumi's even before he breathed his name, Iwaizumi's palms hot against his skin, leaving in their wake tingling electricity.

Oikawa's nails left memories in Iwaizumi's back the way Iwaizumi's mouth left keepsakes on his neck and collarbones. Oikawa didn't even remember making it to the bed; one moment they were on the couch and then the next naked in bed together, covers pooled over their hips.

He turned to look at him, alcohol long ago overpowered by pleasure and _happiness_. Smiling, Oikawa reached out a hand as he shifted to lie on his side, fingers brushing against Iwaizumi's cheek, noted how peaceful he looked when asleep. His heart had returned to its steady rhythm, but the skips and butterflies in his stomach never seemed to lessen. Iwaizumi's tan skin was riddled with marks that Oikawa was proud to claim as his, knowing full well that his own body boasted the same image.

Iwaizumi's dark eyes opened at Oikawa's touch, giving a small smile as he took Oikawa's hands and kissed the back of his fingers. "…Shittykawa," he said quietly.

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa returned.

Another graze of his lips against his knuckles later, Iwaizumi hesitated. Oikawa didn't know what time it was and he didn't care. Time both stopped and sped up with Iwaizumi and the construct itself didn't matter, as long as they were together.

"…Do you think… you want to try?" he asked quietly, looking at Oikawa and both of them understanding the underlying, resounding, ultimate question:

_Are you brave enough?_

Oikawa eyes softened and smiled, pulling his hand away to be able to cup Iwaizumi's cheek.

"I just want Iwa-chan to be happy."

**5:38 a.m., october 25**

Iwaizumi Hajime woke up to an empty bed and a note on the nightstand the next morning.

_I'm so sorry._

**6:41 p.m., december 2**

Oikawa texted.

Of all the things Oikawa could've done, he chose to _text_ him.

With a match coming up, Oikawa had explained to himself that he wasn't _avoidin_ g Iwaizumi, that he was busy. And he was; practices were longer and more grueling, leaving Oikawa just enough time to rest and eat but not enough to do much else. Oikawa wasn't much of a cook and hadn't quite realized just how dependent on Iwaizumi's culinary skills and nutrition knowledge he was until the past few weeks. Luckily for him, Kageyama somehow brought him the same foods Iwaizumi would. He'd been surprised at first and teased him, didn't understand Kageyama staring blankly before walking off.

Oikawa really had no idea _why_ and _how_ Kageyama knew what to bring when, but he didn't complain. He tried not to linger on the fact that it left an ache between his ribs whenever he ate the food because he'd think of Iwaizumi. He no longer came to practices and Oikawa even tried to reason that Iwaizumi was the one who was avoiding him because he no longer came to his practices because...

He never even finished that thought.

He sent a short text, just a casual one.

_How are you?_

Casual, but more formal than his usual style. His initial draft had been much bubblier, sprinkled with 'Iwa-chan' and emoticons. But he looked at it for five seconds and deleted it, opted for a much calmer text. Weeks had passed without a word from him and, knowing he was in the wrong, Oikawa took the plunge.

He'd gotten scared again. When Tipsy Oikawa turned back into Sober Oikawa, that one percent became one hundred. In the same night when he'd been undeniably happy, he'd then dropped to the absolute worst level of fear he'd ever encountered. Because the closer he got to Iwaizumi, the more he had to lose; the higher he climbed, the more he had to fall. Oikawa was fragile. Beneath everything, beneath his exterior, his smiles, his attitude, he was like glass and absolutely terrified of losing the one person who had always been there for him.

He may have done that already.

Fiddling with his phone, Oikawa tried to not be bothered by the fact he hadn't received an answer by the time break was over. He spent the rest of practice telling himself that Iwaizumi didn't always text back immediately. A lot of the time it took him a while; he wasn't constantly staring at his phone, after all. It was normal. Iwaizumi wasn't ignoring him.

He hoped.

When practice was over, Oikawa was one of the first to leave, biding his teammates farewell, assuring his coach he _was_ taking care of himself and being careful with his knee. With his hands in his pockets, Oikawa was on his way to a restaurant on the way home when his fingers brushed against his phone. Breath hitching, he almost pulled it out at a stoplight but kept from doing so; it wouldn't do to obsessively check his phone, he assured himself.

He was going for normalcy.

Shoulders squared to keep straight posture, Oikawa headed into the restaurant once he crossed the street. "The usual," he said with a grin to the waitress. She blushed, chirped 'it's been a while' as she put in his order.

"I've gotten busy, but I can always make some time for you!"

"Stop it, Oikawa-san…!"

Leaning against a wall, he gave another grin before she had to hurry off to tend to a group of guests who had just walked in, promising to be back when she could. He waved her off with an assurance he didn't mind waiting and once she was gone, he instinctively pulled his phone out before he could think otherwise. Oikawa's heart dropped at seeing no new messages; he pocketed the device and tried to reason that, maybe, today was _really_ busy at Iwaizumi just didn't have time to check his phone.

At all.

All afternoon.

Oikawa kept repeating _that morning_ in his head. Ever since leaving, he hadn't been able to shake that awful, all-consuming feeling of guilt as he slipped out of bed, got dressed quickly and quietly, staying only long enough to scrawl a note with shaking hands before leaving. He hadn't been thinking; the only thing running through his mind as he was struggling to pull his clothes on was how he'd been _so happy_ that he didn't want to lose that feeling.

The minute he was outside, he'd stopped walking. Both feet planted themselves firmly on Iwaizumi's doormat, door having just closed behind him. Because, suddenly, Oikawa couldn't move. Because, suddenly, Oikawa regretted everything. Because, suddenly, Oikawa wanted to turn around, go back in, crawl back into bed, tangle him limbs with Iwaizumi's and stay that way forever.

Because, suddenly, the _full brute force_ of just how much he cared for, how much he loved, how much he wanted Iwaizumi hit Oikawa and it rendered him unable to breathe.

Just before the overwhelming urge would send his hand straight to the doorknob, Oikawa turned and sprinted out of the building, flying down the stairs and not looking back once. He didn't stop when he was outside and the cold wind bit at his face, as sprinting made breathing difficult and painful. He tried to not think about Iwaizumi when he woke up and saw that note; he tried not to think about what it would've been like to wake up with Iwaizumi.

He tried not to think about what he just gave up and about how it seemed the only thing Oikawa was capable of doing was hurting the person he never wanted to hurt.

So in the following weeks, he tried not to think about that, about Iwaizumi, about anything. He threw himself into practice and encouraged the distractions that it brought. Despite his effort, though, he was distracted and it showed. His coach called him out on it and told him to take the team more seriously, was this really all his potential? Oikawa bit his tongue to keep from snapping back and just answered _no,_ sir through grit teeth. If his coach wanted effort, Oikawa would give him effort. He wouldn't be inadequate in volleyball.

But weeks passed and even with the additional training and practices, there was an emptiness in Oikawa's being that even volleyball wasn't enough to fill because that was the part of Oikawa that belonged to Iwaizumi.

He'd just never realized it because he'd never lost Iwaizumi before.

"Huh? Yeah… yeah, I've been here. A… friend really likes it."

Oikawa's breath hitched when he heard the voice, feeling his chest seize at the pause before 'friend.' He turned slowly and immediately made eye contact with Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi Hajime, in the flesh, holding his phone and looking straight at Oikawa.

On a date.

Oikawa's eyes immediately fell to the way Iwaizumi's fingers were tangled with someone else's, a pretty enough girl who smiled and giggled, called him 'Iwaizumi-san' and made Oikawa's blood curl and stomach flip. He turned quickly without bothering to catch his eye again and pulled his phone out.

Still no response.

_I don't care._

He'd get his food and leave. He didn't need an answer anymore; seeing Iwaizumi there made it pretty evident. He'd moved on and so Oikawa had to, too.

"Hey."

Iwaizumi.

"…Hello."

"…I was going to answer—"

"Don't bother."

Oikawa's tone was clipped, trying to edge out the hurt. His arms crossed over his chest and he wondered just _where was his goddamn food_ and kept his eyes focused on his shoes and the floorboards beneath them. He could feel Iwaizumi's presence next to him, as it brought with him the same tingles it always did. He could smell his cologne, feel his eyes on him.

It made Oikawa sick.

"So she's nice," Oikawa said lowly, raising his head but still not looking at him. Instead, he opted to focus on the myriad of newspaper clippings on the wall instead. He gave a wry smile. "Parent of one of the kids you teach? Iwa-chan was always good with kids. What a way into a woman's heart."

"…You don't get to be angry," Iwaizumi said quietly.

"Who said I'm angry?"

"You were the one who left, Oikawa."

Iwaizumi was right, but Oikawa didn't want to admit that.

"You don't get to jerk me around like that until you make up your mind," he continued and Oikawa wanted to _punch_ him because how dare he sound so calm, collected, and mature? "I've always been there for you, but that's not how you treat someone. Especially not someone you love."

" _Love_ ," Oikawa echoed with a caustic chuckle that had his shoulders rounding. "Right, right, of course. Iwa-chan's right as always. I messed up! Of course I did, because that's what I always do, right?"

"Oikawa-san, your food!"

Grabbing it from the startled waitress, Oikawa turned to look at Iwaizumi, still hated how he looked so impassive and tired while Oikawa's expression twisted with anger.

"Because I'm not good enough, I'm not mature enough, I'm just not _enough_ —"

"That's not what I said."

"Well, that's what it _sounds like you're saying_!"

Iwaizumi had started talking again but Oikawa didn't want to hear him. He shoved past him, their shoulders colliding, and Iwaizumi stumbled a bit to catch his footing as Oikawa left the restaurant. He threw out the food at the trashcan around the corner and only bothered to look at his phone when he got home because he was going to turn it off.

But there was one message and before he could stop himself, he checked:

_You will always be enough._

_-Iwaizumi_

**7:36 p.m., april 18**

Iwaizumi hadn't heard from Oikawa in months and the only reason he hadn't checked was because he received updates from his coach and Kageyama that Oikawa was fine.

Not _fine_ as in fine, but _fine_ as in still alive and relatively physically healthy.

Hearing his rice cooker give an annoyingly cheerful beep to announce it was finished, Iwaizumi took a moment to roll his neck, hand coming to rest on a particularly sore part. The high schoolers he coached were approaching some tournament matches, meaning extra practices that ate into Iwaizumi's personal time. He didn't particularly mind that he had less time to lounge around on his own, but he _did_ wish it wasn't as taxing on his body. It felt like he was in high school again, he thought bitterly, and he made a note to keep on top of working out. There really was no excuse for him to be this exhausted from playing with high school students.

And here he thought not practicing with Oikawa meant he'd be _less_ tired.

Just thinking of Oikawa's name sent chills down Iwaizumi's spine. His brow furrowed and he clicked his tongue as he angrily shoveled rice into a bowl. After the text he'd sent, it had been absolute silence. Out of habit, he'd occasionally open his conversation with Oikawa and that was the last message they'd exchanged. Iwaizumi's thumb always hovered over the keyboard, but he never even typed a single letter, didn't want to risk Oikawa seeing those ellipses in a speech bubble.

Didn't want to reach out first.

Iwaizumi, being Oikawa's friend, had tolerated a lot. He'd allowed a lot of rather terrible things to slide, but this had crossed a line and Iwaizumi was too hurt to let Oikawa saunter back into his life like nothing had happened.

He'd do anything _for_ Oikawa, but that didn't mean he'd let Oikawa do anything _to_ him.

The morning after, Iwaizumi had found the note and, considering he felt like his entire world had crashed, he had handled it relatively well. When he first woke up, he hadn't quite realized that Oikawa had left. He was groggy from delirium and woken up before six out of habit. It was only when his mind cleared a bit and he remembered Oikawa that he turned to look at him, meeting the note on pillow instead.

Picking it up, he had read it and, without letting any emotions betray his face, set it aside and rolled over, closing his eyes and going back to sleep.

He felt nothing.

He knew Oikawa wasn't doing it to _hurt_ him. He also knew that Oikawa definitely would know how much it would sting, but that wasn't his _intention_. Maybe he'd twisted it into some sort of heroic act, that breaking his heart now would save him more pain later. But whether or not he thought that, Iwaizumi knew that, deep down, it was Oikawa wanting to protect his brittle heart.

The anger came during breakfast. During a meal he'd thought he'd share with Oikawa. In the middle of his meal, he suddenly hurled the bowl at the wall. The crash startled even himself and he was left sitting at the table alone with ceramic pieces littering his floor.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that.

It took a while, but he eventually accepted that and moved on. The anger had turned into hurt and the hurt was lessening. It flared up at times, but Iwaizumi had internalized it. If Oikawa didn't want to be with him, he wasn't going to waste any more time trying to change that. Because even though Iwaizumi wanted to be with him more than anything, he couldn't force someone who wasn't ready to want the same thing.

All he wanted, in the end, was for Oikawa to be happy.

Truly, genuinely, eternally happy.

Iwaizumi didn't text Kageyama very much; the only reason he had his number was because back in high school Oikawa had, at times, used his phone to text him. So eventually it was saved (by Oikawa for Oikawa's convenience) and Iwaizumi now made use of it, telling Kageyama what Oikawa should be eating before game days and during intense practices. He called on a few occasions just to make sure Kageyama was doing exactly as he said.

Taking his rice and the vegetables he'd prepared, Iwaizumi went over to sit at his couch. He turned on the television and flipped to one of the news channels, figured anything concerning Japan's national volleyball team would definitely make it onto the news.

_"…a splendid performance by our national men's volleyball team! They've made it past the world preliminaries and the first official game match will be in two weeks…"_

Iwaizumi found himself smiling before he realized it, a tired but proud smile.

"Glad that worked out for him."

The sudden buzz of his phone caught Iwaizumi's attention. He jolted slightly, having not expected it, and gave an annoyed sigh. Turning to glance at his phone, he confirmed that it had indeed gone off when the screen was brightly lit. Iwaizumi sat forward to leave his rice on the coffee table a foot was propped on before picking it up to see what the notification was for.

_New message from Shittykawa._

His heart stopped for a moment, fingers moving to unlock the device before he even remembered to breathe.

_Are you home?_

He hesitated, replying:

_Yeah._

And a few seconds after he hit 'send', there was a knock at the door.

Sparing another glance at his phone, Iwaizumi waited to confirm no additional message would be received before he stood slowly and made his way over, the television still babbling on in the background. The feeling of his feet going from carpet to cool hardwood floors was barely registered, but he did feel the cool breeze that swept over his body and into his apartment when he opened his door.

He saw a grey sweater and immediately recognized it as his. He'd worn it to Oikawa's place a few years ago and accidentally left it at his apartment. Whenever he asked for it back, Oikawa would declare that "finders keepers, losers weepers" and Iwaizumi would tell him that made no sense but let him keep it. He was hopeful and touched for a moment, but kept it from showing in his expression.

Oikawa's head was bowed, but Iwaizumi could still see that he was drenched. There were several beats of silence and Iwaizumi vaguely heard a few of his neighbors from downstairs arguing. He was just deciding if he should invite him in when Oikawa looked up slowly, giving a tired smirk and even though he was still hurt, Iwaizumi couldn't be as cold as he wanted to.

"Idiot," he said, tone softer than usual, "at least put on a rain—"

"Iwa-chan ruined me."

Iwaizumi closed his mouth and said nothing. He didn't invite him in, just like the way Oikawa didn't take a step closer. He was leaning against the railing, rain beating against his back and one ankle crossed over the other. Crossing his arms, Iwaizumi leaned against his doorframe and used his foot to keep the door from closing on him.

"…We made it through the preliminaries," Oikawa started, stopping when his voice nearly cracked and licked his lips. "We… our hard work paid off. I'm really happy."

And yet when he looked up, he looked anything but.

"…Coach says I'm a good player. Everyone's been praising me on how hard I work… even the medic about how I'm less reckless with my knee. It's… things are going really well. It's like it's starting to all come together."

He fell quiet again and Iwaizumi's felt a knot in his chest at Oikawa's expression.

"…Congratulations," Iwaizumi said quietly.

"Everything's working out," Oikawa continued in that same quiet, hushed, broken sort of voice that made Iwaizumi frown. "…But… I'm not happy."

"Oh."

Iwaizumi wasn't sure why he said that, but he wasn't sure what else he was supposed to say. His eyes dropped to the ground, opposite direction in where Oikawa's eyes were trained. After months of not talking, he didn't know what to expect. A heavy, awkward silence was probably given, but it was _strange_. Because in all the time that they'd been friends, talking to each other had been easy and comfortable.

And then Oikawa had confessed.

There were things about Oikawa that Iwaizumi understood more than anyone else, but there were still things about Oikawa that even Iwaizumi didn't understand. He understood Oikawa's fear, his insecurities, how that factored into him not wanting to be with him.

He _didn't understand_ why Oikawa would, despite all that, be the first to confess, start off a chain of events that would've either taken their relationship to a different level or entirely ruined it.

His nails dug into his arms.

"…I'm not happy because Iwa-chan's not by my side," Oikawa continued, giving the same dry laugh he'd given the day at the restaurant. "It's… it's so stupid. Because I've wanted this my whole life. And now I have it. Playing volleyball, being on the international stage. Working hard and having it pay off. But… I can't enjoy it. I can't because… because I can't stop thinking about you. Not a single day, despite how hard I work… I can't stop thinking about you."

He looked up and his eyes were glassy.

"It's like… it's like working your entire life for a dream. And it comes true! Great, right? Great… great, yeah. That's what I thought. But then you realize… you realize that's not your dream. It's still something you want, but there was something else you wanted more, that you took for granted. And you lost it because… because you took it for granted. And you put a hundred and ten percent into what you thought was your dream, and only ninety nine into what was really your dream. Because you didn't think you'd ever lose it."

Iwaizumi looked at him and faltered at seeing Oikawa's expression. His eyes were glassy and it was obvious he was hurt, but that smile seemed so out of place.

And, yet, also perfectly fitting.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he continued, voice beginning to rise and Iwaizumi's nails dug into his arms.

He always hated when Oikawa cried.

"I… I can't. About you and your… your _date_ and how _she's_ what you want, and _she's_ who you chose to be with—"

"Don't say that," Iwaizumi snapped, straightening, eyes narrowing. "I didn't _choose_. You're the one who chose and you—"

"You didn't _choose_? Oh, so some girl comes off the street and grabs Iwa-chan and he lets her—"

"You're the one who left—"

"You're the one who confess—"

" _You're the one who confessed first!_ "

It was the first time Iwaizumi had raised his voice and Oikawa faltered, genuinely surprised. Giving a sigh, Iwaizumi raised a hand to run through his hair, looking away. "…You're the one who confessed first," he repeated in a low voice. "I… I don't know why. Hell, I _still_ don't know if it was a joke. But you did. Don't try to make this entire thing seem like my fault—"

"So it's _my_ fault for confessing?! Right, right, I forgot, because I'm completely _useless_ right?" Oikawa snapped, taking a step forward. "Because everything I do is wrong, because nothing I do is enough, because I'm always going to fall short—"

"Oikawa—"

"No, I get it!" he snapped, corners of his lips curling maliciously. "I'm not good enough for Iwa-chan, which is why he decided to date that girl! Because I can't make up my mind, right?! Because I'm so cowardly and Iwa-chan deserves better!"

Oikawa hesitated and Iwaizumi noted the sudden change from abrasive to guilt and shame. "…Because Iwa-chan deserves better," he said quietly, brow knitting. "…Iwa-chan deserves someone who isn't afraid to stand by him, the way he always stands by me. …You do deserve someone better. Someone's who's not afraid."

Giving a shaky laugh, Oikawa lifted one of his hands to push his wet bangs out of his face and Iwaizumi's heart ached to see the miserable, almost maniacal smile again. "And even though we made it past the preliminaries with _my_ help, I overheard coach talking with the managers, saying they should consider switching me out… because, after all, what use is a setter with a messed up knee?! Just how long am I going to be able to play?! I get grilled if I train too much, I get put on the backburner if I train less… I can't train as hard as they want me too and they think if they push me more-!"

Stopping abruptly to breathe, Oikawa's following expression claws at the broken shards of Iwaizumi's heart.

"Just… I can't stop thinking about you, Iwa-chan. I can't, I… I tried not to. Because I know I messed up and I-I know… I know you're angry at me… I know what I did was unforgivable, I know you hate me. And I know that I shouldn't even be here, but…" he paused before laughing, arm folding over his stomach as peals shuddered his body, other hand raising to cover half his face when it began dying down. "I can't believe this… this is ridiculous, I… everything's falling apart and I can't think to go to anyone except the person who must hate me more than anyone… I'm pathetic, I-!"

"...I could never hate you, Oikawa."

"Of course you'd say that," he mumbled, looking up with a glare. "Of _course_ because… because even when Iwa-chan's mad at me, he always knows what to say. Even when I did all that to Iwa-chan… Iwa-chan's still such a good person. Just… just get out of my head. Get out, because I can't stop thinking about you, and it's… I lost you, but you won't leave me alone… get out, get out, get out, just get-!"

Oikawa's voice cracked but the reason he stopped talking was because Iwaizumi abruptly pulled him into a hug, and his breath was knocked out of him for just a moment. Oikawa's arms were limp at his side as he felt Iwaizumi's arms around him, fingers curling and grasping the back of his damp shirt.

He didn't know if Iwaizumi could feel his heart racing, or that he wasn't breathing. But Iwaizumi was warm; he was warm and he was solid, and Oikawa leaned against him, biting his lip to keep it from trembling as he closed his eyes. He whispered 'get out' and it took everything to not break down in his arms.

"You're enough," he heard Iwaizumi say quietly and, for a moment, everything stopped. "You always were and always will be. Don't ever think otherwise, Oikawa."

Iwaizumi's voice was soft, but his tone was firm and sent chills down Oikawa's spine. He was stiff for just a moment longer before relaxing, trusting Iwaizumi to be able to support his weight. Arms wrapped tightly around him and the hot tears pressing to his cheek left dark stains on Iwaizumi's shoulder as he returned the embrace, gave a shudder as he cried in the only place he felt safe enough to do so.

**9:32 a.m., april 19**

"Please don't give up on me."

Head bowed and hands at his sides, Oikawa's heart was racing, thudding in his chest as he stood before his coach and manager.

Despite waking up and feeling more content than he had in months, Oikawa had forced himself to leave the comforts of Iwaizumi's apartment after breakfast (eaten only after being threatened to have it combined in a blender and poured down his throat.) The night before had been taxing; Oikawa vaguely remembered eventually going into his apartment, taking a hot shower and collapsing in Iwaizumi's bed shortly afterwards. Iwaizumi followed suit and Oikawa instinctively rolled towards him before pulling back, mumbling 'sorry.'

Iwaizumi had stared at him for a moment before sighing and reaching out, pulling him close and keeping an arm around him.

_"…What about—"_

_"We broke up. That was our only date."_

_Oikawa blinked._

_"What, she wasn't Iwa-chan's type? She was pretty cute."_

_"It's not fair to be with someone when you love someone else."_

"Oikawa-kun—"

"I'll find a balance," he said, cutting off the tired sigh that began his name. "I'll take care of my knee, but I'll improve. I won't disappoint you. I have exactly what you thought I did when you first spotted me."

His hands clenched.

"…This is my dream."

The following silence was so terse that it easily made it into the top five tense silences that Oikawa Tooru had ever experienced in his life. But then there was another sigh and a 'you don't need to bow your head.' Looking up after a moment, Oikawa was met with a slightly incredulous but mostly tired look.

"You overheard our conversation, I'm guessing?"

He nodded.

Giving a small smile as he shook his head, the coach crossed his arms. "…That was a bit premature. We have no plans of switching you out, Oikawa-kun. It's rare to find someone with a work ethic like yours, and hard work, in the end, is what matters. Don't worry."

Oikawa blinked a few times before he gave a bright, confident grin to hide his relief. "Thank you! You won't regret it!"

"Yeah, yeah. Watch the knee. Go and start setting up."

Beaming when he returned to the gym, Oikawa had started heading towards the equipment closet when he caught sight of Iwaizumi leaning against the doorframe. Stilling in surprise, he took a deep breath to calm his racing heart before heading over, smiling brightly. "Iwa-chan! Did you follow me here?"

"Yeah."

"…Oh. I didn't actually expect you to admit that."

Giving a smirk as he pocketed his phone, Iwaizumi straightened. "So?"

Oikawa grinned, held up two fingers in a victory sign.

"All A-okay!"

"That's good."

"Yup!"

There was another silence that Oikawa wanted to fill, yet felt comfortable enough to leave. Last night seemed like forever ago, distant like a dream. Everything Oikawa had suppressed and tried to channel into focusing on volleyball had culminated into broken sobs into Iwaizumi's shoulder. He didn't like crying, not even in front of Iwaizumi, _especially in front of Iwaizumi_ , but it was the only place he was comfortable enough to do so. Everything had started closing in on him and even though they hadn't spoken to one months, Iwaizumi was still his home.

Fidgeting, Oikawa had raised a hand to push his bangs back when Iwaizumi spoke, looking up to lock gazes.

"I'm in love with you."

"…E-eh?" Oikawa answered, hand frozen in his hair and a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "I-Iwa-chan—"

"And I want to be with you," he continued firmly. "I'm not going to dance around this any longer. We're either friends or not. So if you're not ready, then tell me once and—"

"…I'm ready."

Oikawa replied in a quiet voice, but he gave a small smile as he lowered his hand, nodding. "…I want to be with Iwa-chan. And I won't run from you anymore. ...A hundred percent, I promise, Iwa-chan. You can hit me if I go back to ninety nine."

Iwaizumi looked surprised for a moment, but he relaxed into a smile that had Oikawa's widening. "...About damn time, Shittykawa. Chasing you gets exhausting."

"Mean…!"

Feigning a pout, Iwaizumi gave a laugh as he turned. But he halted for a moment and, after looking around quickly, he took a step forward and leaned up to press their lips together briefly before pulling back, cheeks red. "I'll see you after practice," he mumbled, tips of his ears tingeing red. Oikawa gave a laugh and waved him off brightly, heading back towards the closet to start getting the net.

But before he did, he stopped by his locker room, realizing he'd forgotten his knee pad. As he pulled it out of his duffel bag, his phone clattered to the ground and he clicked his tongue in annoyance, picking it up. He pressed the home button to check for any notifications out of habit and murmured 'oh?' to see a new text.

_From: Iwa-chan_

He blinked and unlocked it.

_I'll be your one percent._

_-Iwaizumi_


End file.
